Halo: Schism
by 11inchpineanddragonheartstring
Summary: The Reclaimers. Children of the gods, walking in the footsteps of the Forerunners. Brought into the Covenant as the children of the Forerunners, the Reclaimers walk forward with the Covenant to fulfill the great journey. Accept the humans, the Hierarchs could do. But relinquish their power? Never. AU. The story of the Covenant civil war with humanity in the fight.
1. Prologue

**This is probably the third time I'm writing this foreword, and it's getting pretty old, and my browser keeps crashing. So forgive my curtness.**

 **I'm attempting a new style of story - a standard Halo Action Adventure, imitation Eric Nylund, Havoc-Leigonnaire, Wolverfrog49, and Katsuhiro. So essentially all the heroes of the Halo Universe.**

 **Please give me a shot and R &R.**

* * *

 **Synopsis:**

 **The prophets correctly understood Mendicant Bias's message - the Humans were the Reclaimers.**

 **But instead of exterminating them, why not adopt them? As the children of the Forerunners, priests of the gods, vanguard of the Great Journey?**

 **However, compromising their faith was one thing. But compromising their power, the prophets could never do.**

* * *

 **Look up the Halo Galactic Map by Halcylon, it will help a lot.**

17th January 2525 – First contact with Covenant over Harvest.

11th February 2525 – Battle of Harvest begins

23rd February 2525 – Evacuation of Harvest

9th March 2525 – SPARTAN-II augmentation process

5th August 2525 – First attempts at peaceful contact by Covenant forces.

2526 – Covenant-Human negotiations. Peace treaty signed.

2528 – Covenant-Human negotiations broken down by humans. Treaty is broken.

August 2529 – Bliss is glassed.

November 2529 – Humanity initiates negotiation.

June 2530 – Humanity joins the covenant.

September 2530 - Covenant Hierarchs recognize Humanity as the descendants and reclaimers of the Forerunners. Humans are named 'Guardians' and given a warrior-scientist role in the Covenant

2532 – First human revolts on Biko, Draco III, and Joyous Exultation

2533 – Insurrection takes Chi Ceti IV, Dwarka, Atlas, and New Constantinople.

2535 – Right Arm Outer colonies of Ariel, Cote d'Azure, New Jerusalem, Miridem, and Yeren defect to Insurrection. Covenant officially declare war on Human Insurrection. Thel 'Vadamee promoted to Supreme Commander and assigned to the Fleet of Particular Justice. Fleet of Particular Justice commissioned against Human Insurrection.

2537 - Covenant leadership take jurisdiction over SPARTAN-II program from ONI. SPARTAN-IIs deployed against Human Insurrection. John-117 and the Blue Team are assigned to Marathon Class Cruiser UNSC _Prophecy_. UNSC Prophecy joins the Fleet of Particular Justice. Fleet of Particular Justice assigned to the Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose.

2538 - John-117 meets Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee.

2540 - UNSC inner colonies Coral, Gilgamesh, Halcylon, and Far Isle defect and are captured by the Insurrection. Combined Fleet of Righteous purpose assigned to take back the inner colonies

2541 - Battle of Coral and Gilgamesh. Decisive Covenant Victory

2543 - Battles of Far Isle, Halcylon, and Second Battle of Gilgamesh. Insurrectionist Pyrrhic Victory.

2545 - Insurrectionist Inner Colonies Captured and glassed. Human Insurrectionist revolts spring up in Left Arm outer colonies of Green Hills, Biko, Arcadia, Draco II and Second Base.

2547 - First Jiralhanae command assigned to Left Arm Outer colonies. Beginning of Sanghelli and Jiralhanae rivalries.

2548 - Decisive Covenant Victory. All Left Arm Colonies glassed and all colonists killed. Insurrection movement goes underground. Beginning of friction between Human-Jiralhanae relationships.

2550 - Cote d'Azur taken evacuated of all human presence. Covenant begin studying Forerunner Relics on Cote d'Azur. Covenant request occupation of Reach.

2551 - UNSC give Reach to the covenant in exchange for Joyous Exultation. Unofficial conflicts arise on Joyous Exultation between Jiralhanae and humans.

2552 - Crystal on Reach uncovered. Installation-04 discovered.

* * *

 **Edit 28th November 2015:  
I've removed the prologue in favour of a shorter, more succinct opening, because I think the prologue was driving people off.**


	2. Chapter 2

The chattering of assault rifle fire shook the air.

It was the first thing that registered on John-117's consciousness, the familiar, skull-shaking b-rr-rr of the assault rifle, occasionally shattered by sharp rattle of a BR-55.

He opened his eyes.

Just in time to see a quartet of Banshees scream overhead, blasting the ground with their fuel rod cannons in beautiful synchronisation, and wheeling around in tandem.

Suddenly a hand registered in his vision. A green and black matte hand, still rippling with the impact its energy shields had just taken, but then fading back to the active camouflage. John gripped it - and was back in the battle.

It was carnage.

He glance around the battlefield, blinking away the blackness.

Fred stood behind him, scanning the area with rifle in hand.

Ariel had revolted several years ago. Normally, the Alliance would begin glassing the planet, then move on. The problem with the Right Arm outer colonies was that they were all in a constant state of civil war - and glassing the colony would kill both insurrectionists and loyalist colonists, a direct violation of the Human-Covenant adoption Alliance.

So, they had to fight on the ground.

The problem was, the insurrection was everywhere. It wasn't a week that went by without announcing the defection of an official, and the Insurrection's commanders were _genius_. People like Commander J. Williams had fought for five years for the Insurrection, while holding a tactical position in UNSC command without being discovered. And the insurrection didn't fight conventionally. They didn't even fight conventional guerrilla warfare. There fight was one of espionage and chaos. One moment, you'd be ordered to attack platoon of shabby freedom fighters on the battlefield, and next you'd be attacked by your own marines while the freedom fighters turn out to be a UNSC squad who's orders had been fabricated by a insurrectionist AI.

UNSC intelligence kept improving their security measures. And the Insurrection kept adapting. Their technology was somehow on par with the standard grade technology of the UNSC and covenant military.

John shook of the nausea and examined the situation.

At first, they'd been going for a scouting run.

Standard ops, they'd left the base camp where the DDS-Class Carrier Ascendant Justice was parked, hovering a half a klick above the ground, constantly ferrying their load onto the ground.

The planet - Ariel - part of the Insurrection's original worlds, had requested help from High Command for help. The loyalists had apparently won a significant battle and were asking for the Alliance support to clean up. The Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose had left Halcylon with a Covenant Leigon - Grunts and Jackals mostly, commanded by minimal Sanghelli and Jiralhanae. The ground troops were commanded by Special Ops Commander Rukth 'Kilkaree. Of course, as it turned out, it was merely an insurrectionist ploy. Ariel was deep in civil war, the insurrection had the advantage, and they had infiltrated Loyalist command and sent the message. Why would they fabricate a message that brought the full Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose? Intelligence didn't know - or more likely, didn't want to say.

John 117 and Fred 104 had been instructed to take a squad of 50 Grunt Minors, 30 Jackals, and 20 marines, and ten Jiralhanae pilots to a investigate a possible insurrection observation post. Standard tactics: shock and awe, the only thing that comprehensively worked on insurrectionists. It was flexible, and if all went pear-shaped, they hand two Pelicans on hand for a speedy extraction.

Their orders? Destroy the place, burn it to the ground if you have to. Although the mission was technically an intelligence run, there was no need to leave the place standing afterwards. So, instead of bombing the place, destroy it by hand. Simple, hence the large squad of cannon fodder, who could fill the air with deadly plasma and knew how to flee, especially if instructed to.

Fred, the tactician, had instructed them to form up in wide Phalanx. Ten Jackals in front, with the grunts behind and Marines acting as the sheepdogs for the Grunts. They could easily obliterate anything in front of them with waves of plasma, and were temporarily safe from any frontal assault. Banshees above made sure that nothing blindsided them.

They were marching upwards, through a light forest to the post - disguised as a weather tower - on the top of a cliff.

What had happened?

John surveyed the field quickly. The grunts had panicked and were routing, most of the jackals had formed up in a semi-defensive structure, but they were shooting wildly, and enemy fire was coming from all directions

"Report," he barked through the radio.

Fred shook his head. "No signal," he said.

He waved a hand towards a series of barriers in front of them. "They mined the place. Not with conventional mines, but they hid a bunch of powered off deployable cover units under the rocks. They didn't power them up when we were over them, but when we were past them, so we didn't see them. Of course, they exploded, and were angled to blow rocks over us."

A simple tactic, but it worked against their incompetent force.

"How did they cut off our radios?"

"No idea," Fred replied. "Working on getting a hold of the platoon."

"Don't bother." John said. "I've got a better idea."

Quickly he surveyed the battlefield again, to see where the fire was coming from.

To a casual observer, it looked like they were surrounded by enemies. Deployable cover shields had popped up in a circle around them, and plasma fire was spitting out from holes in the circle.

He'd seen the tactic before. They were standard illusions to fool the grunts into thinking they were surrounded, and drive them to rout. In reality, there was probably a bunker somewhere, with all the insurrectionists coolly shooting, ready to pick off all the panicking grunts and jackals at ease. John silently cursed the diminutive soldiers.

"Try and get the marines to herd the grunts into a defensive circle and put the jackals infront. See if they can't return fire."

"What about us?" Fred asked.

John grinned. "They don't think we're here. They probably think we're cloaked elites."

It was standard procedure to cloak all special forces before engaging, and SPARTANS obeyed this rule as well. However, the insurrection wouldn't anticipate such SPARTANs on the battlefield.

"Do you have a hologram unit?" He asked.

Fred winked a yes. "Good. Take it and distract them. Try and draw their fire... project a Brute Chieftain. Then follow me."

Fred winked yes again melting into the surroundings and rippled towards the marines.

John waited.

There was a short pause, and out of the midst of the milling grunts, an angry Brute Chieftain shoved a boulder off its chest, roaring angrily.

Instantly, all fire was directed to him. It would be idiocy to let an angry Brute Chieftain anywhere near you.

"Radio's working again," Fred came over the channel. "You want me to be rabbit?"

John signaled a negative, and waited.

There.

The Holographic Chieftain got up, swung his hammer experimentally, and charged the shields surrounding them.

John slammed his feet into the ground and started running. He wasn't incredibly fast, no-where near as fast as Kelly - but it was enough.

Timing his jump impeccably, he dived through a stream of plasma rounds. Intentionally, he let one hit him. His shields flickered, and his camouflage blinked for a second.

It was enough to make himself known.

The Brute Chieftain flickered and died, and instantly all fire was focused on him.

It was a normal tactic - distract the enemy with a hologram, and then send a stealth Elite to kill as many as possible. But this time, John wasn't the stealth elite, he just the second distraction, from the real danger.

Fred.

John dived over a log as a trail of plasma followed him, and ducked behind a rock.

"Putting up a Fist of God," he whispered.

He tagged a plasma cannon, operated by several insurrectionists. Priming a fragmentation grenade, he lobbed it in the direction of the shooter.

It never got to the target it was moving towards.

With a burst of speed, a ripple in the air appeared - jumped into the air - _punched_ the grenade.

Accelerated with the speed that Fred had punched it, the grenade screamed through the air and lodged itself in the cannon that John had marked.

Fist of God was a technique that involved propelling a frag grenade - plasma grenades would have stuck to the SPARTAN's fist - towards the enemy as fast and hard as possible for one purpose: To cause as much chaos as possible.

The plasma cannon exploded violently, its containment fields all failing simultaneously, sending liquid plasma spraying all over the nearby insurrectionists. Blue fire rippled up around as the deployable cover units detonated violently. John saw the men stumble away from the cannon, horrific burns covering their torsos. They would be dead in seconds.

John didn't wait to see what happened next.

He sprinted for the nearest bunker window, and vaulted through the duracrete opening.

The room was sparse. Three men - dirty, covered in antiquated camouflage and loading BR55s saw him.

They went for their sidearms.

John didn't spare them a chance.

He raised his fist quickly, slammed the first one in the chest with his foot in a quick side kick.

His shock-absorbent vest took most of the hit, but the sheer power of the kick shattered his ribcage, and he dropped to the ground in agony.

The second man raised his gun - too slowly. John crash-tackled him, hard, slamming him into the ammo locker, and with the same momentum, slammed the locker off the wall, picked it up and sent it crashing into the last insurrectionist, crushing him and breaking his neck, killing him instantly.

This was the beauty of their tactic. Fred caused a holographic distraction, and used it to get John in. John pretended to be a distraction in order to get Fred in, and while everyone was focused on Fred, John would come crashing in unexpected.

Fast, brutal, and efficient.

John grabbed a BR-55 - standard issue for insurrectionists - off the dead men. It would do no good sending alerting everyone to his presence with his shotgun's recognizable report, and in the hands of an experienced fighter - of which John was definitely - a BR-55 would pack a heavier punch, even at close range.

"Fred." He ordered. "Report."

Fred's voice came in heavy. "There were ten of them in here. Had to get creative. I think these bunkers are connected to the main facility."

John acknowledged. "I'll get the phalanx reorganized and get a casualty report. Then I'll get them to move up to the main facility. You go underground and hit them from behind on my signal."

Fred winked green.

The jackal phalanx had held.

Several grunts had fallen, more had been wounded, but the losses were minimal, considering how badly they'd been blindsided.

All in all, acceptable.

The grunts were now recovered from their shock, and their blood was up. All perfect for a shock and awe.

John signalled an advance.

Fred reported in half a minute later, saying that there was an issue.

They had an exoskeleton. Similar to the MNJOLNIR Mk III, the exoskeleton was a bodysuit, designed to give the user more power and mobility, and also came with two 30mm autocannons. In short, it could make short work of grunts, jackals, even banshees, unless you were able to fill it with fire first.

Briefly, John considered his options. It was hopeless to try a suicide charge with a few of the grunts, they would be obliterated before they even got close. Even the kinetic barrier of a jackal shield could not stand up to a less than a few seconds of exposed fire.

There were about five guns that had already been set up – two kinetic guns and three lauchers – at the landing site. All of them could make the shot easily, they just had to get the intel out.

John ordered the marines to for a defensive position in the bunker system, while he and Fred attacked the main compound. He requisitioned two Jackal shields.

Then he started running.

He didn't have a boost for his liquid-metal crystal layer, so the second he sighted the building of the main compound, he had to be fast.

The autocannons opened up immediately. John dashed behind a tree, before activating his left arm shield and running for the next.

Pvt. Owens opened the COMM channel. The kinetic guns had been prepped, and were ready to fire.

The kinetic guns were essentially baby magnetic acceleration cannons. However, similar to plasma torpedoes, the guns themselves had the ability to remotely control the heavy tungsten shots using magnetic fields.

Essentially, they were the artillery version of a railgun – heavy, destructive, and capable of punching a hole clean through anything.

John wanted a hole in the mountain – and they would comply.

The problem was that the Jackal shields would allow Fred and John to insert into the base, but would most likely be taken out on the way , they had an insertion plan, but no extraction plan – not even MJOLNIR shields could take the brunt of a stream of 30mm bullets. If they had a computer controlling the autocannons, there was an 80% chance that every bullet would hit the intended target.

In short – bad odds of escaping.

The point of the mission, was to gain intel. Once the intel was gone, there was no point to leave the base standing.

Which was where the kinetic guns came in. The tungsten shots would tear the base – especially the exoskeleton – apart, rendering them no longer a danger. However, they would take approximately a minute, from firing command to impact, to hit the target.

Which meant there was a delay of a minute to get the intel out.

They had to make it fast.

Fred – still underground – had the job of getting the intel. John was to distract the exoskeleton and call the kinetic shot.

John dashed around a tree, letting his shield soak up a few bullets, and constantly altering his velocity so the gun would have a harder chance of tracking his movement. However, only one gun was focused on him. The other one was waiting for Fred to surface. He was going to have to improvise.

"On my mark," he whispered into the COMM. Fred acknowledged. "Go!"

He simultaneously primed and threw five grenades.

Instantly, both autocannons, realising the danger, opened fire on the grenades.

John saw the flash that was Fred, and ordered the shot. The minute popped up on his HUD timer.

John activated both shields, and charged the exoskeleton.

The larger exoskeleton shot back, slowing John momentarily. His shields fizzled, and the second they died, he jumped.

The jump sent him leaping – onto the shoulders of the exoskeleton, which fizzled with light energy shielding. The autocannons, confused, began tracking Fred, who was sprinting towards a computer terminal.

John lashed out with a foot – kicking the arm aiming at Fred, and knocked it off balance.

The exoskeleton operator dived forward, trying to perform a roll, to knock John off its shoulders.

Priming his final grenade, John stuck it onto the head of the exoskeleton. The autocannons, reconginzing the threat, targeted the grenade.

The explosion of plasma threw John back several metres. The exoskeleton sprawled on the ground, unbalanced, while its guns fired randomly.

John glanced at his clock. 0:18 seconds left.

Fred, finished with his upload, lobbed another grenade at the exoskeleton – not enough to destroy the armoured beast, but to knock it off balance for the next few seconds.

John threw Fred a jackal shield gauntlet.

Then they both ran.

Bullets from the exoskeleton rippled off their shields. Then John's clock hit zero.

The massive explosion behind them rocked the slope as the two massive shells smashed into the mountainside, obliterating all behind them. The two SPARTANs unceremoniously sprawled forwards in the massive blast.

Blood dripping down his interior faceplate, John grinned at Fred.

"A success, no?"

 **So that's what I mean by 'learning how to write action scenes'.**

 **I felt that I did pretty badly, but I think I'll get better. Maybe when I've done this fic I'll give all the bad action scenes a redo.**

 **On a side note, I've been around Halo FanFiction since 2012 - Pre Halo 4 - and I felt that the community, although a little stagnant and old, was pretty... receptive. Now that I've returned, it seems that everyone is slightly less... friendly. Oh well. We'll see.**

 **Please drop a review and if you like the way this is going, follow!**

 **Thanks**

 **-11inchpineanddragonheartstring**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, I'm back. Please expect long delays as I'm in exams right now. I'll be back in full force with hopefully a weekly (or shorter) updates in about a month.**

 **By the way, does anyone want to volunteer as a beta? I've been told several times that my grammar needs work, so... help! Please?**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **2300 Hours, August 11, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Ariel System, in orbit around planet Ariel**

* * *

"You two. With me."

The Captain's voice rang, soft, but clearly through the room.

Fred glanced at John, who was occupied with re-attaching a modification on his shotgun, after its cleaning.

The hall was utilitarian - bunks lining the walls, tucked away in small nichés, packing crates efficiently distributed across the back half of the hall, one of which John was sitting on, and a large mat laid out on the other half of the hall, where Kelly and Li - the two martial artists - where trading blows.

The captain's voice, however, stopped all activity. John snapped to attention, shotgun dropping to the side and hand moving up to a salute so fast that the untrained eye barely saw it.

"Captain on deck!"

Fred, stood too, saluting. Li and Kelly, with surprising grace, dropped out of a combat maneuver and fell into line.

With a quick indication of his head, the captain pointed out John and Kelly. He exited the room, John and Kelly hurrying after him.

Li turned to Fred.

"What do you think that was about?"

Fred finished the diagnostics on his DMR and slammed the bolt back with a satisfying clack.

"I think we're going to find out."

* * *

John fell into line, slightly behind the Captain. It was habitual, CO leading the way, with John to the left and Kelly slightly ahead, flanking right. Standard for a squad of three.

There was silence, except for the quiet footfalls of the Captain as he walked through the long hallways of the UNSC Prophecy. The two SPARTANs, in fatigues and soft shoes, made no noise at all.

Finally the Captain spoke.

"There was a reason two SPARTANs were sent on the intel run," he said.

Neither John nor Kelly responded, so he went on.

"The insurrection has information that the Alliance dearly wants. Something vital to Transcendence."

OPERATION: Transcendence was the military code word for the Great Journey. Many pious among the Covenant and even humans found it blasphemous to affix a military code to such an important religious figure, but the treaty of the Alliance had specified that as long as the Humans co-operated with the Journey, there was to be little doctrinal apologetics on the subject.

"Do you remember Sigma Octanus?"

"Yes," John and Kelly both answered in unison.

Sigma Octanus was a human system that had been in civil war since the Left Arm Colonies revolted. However, in 2550 the Covenant had requested for it.

They had wanted something on the planet - in the city of Coté 'd Azure - something desperately. ONI hushed up the specifics of what they wanted, but the insurrection wasn't going to budge.

So the Covenant glassed the planet.

It would have been against the Alliance violations - but the Covenant wanted it so badly, they relocated and compensated every civilian. Economists could only begin to estimate how much money was necessary.

Then they had glassed the planet. It was unknown whether the insurrection had escaped. The Covenant didn't ever reveal what they wanted, nor whether they even got it, but the whole affair was closed within a year.

The trio approached a heavy blast door at the end of the hall, guarded by two marines. The Captain waved his identity card at them and went on.

"ONI now knows that the Covenant didn't get what they wanted - in full. The insurrection knew they were looking for something Forerunner, and got there first. Got all the intel out first."

The Captain now opened another secure door.

The room that they entered was small, but plush. Darkly lit, the main center of light was a large holotable in the middle of the room surrounded by plush chairs. The carpet was a deep red and the walls didn't look like synthetic wood.

"This," said the Captain, pointing at the holotable, "Is what they were looking for."

The holotable lit up, showing a three-dimensional star system. As the captain pointed to it, one of the star systems began flashing red.

"Fleetmaster Vadamee is instructed to take the fleet there at best speed. Unfortunately, our entrance window of opportunity to enter the Ariel system was slim."

The holotable changed, bringing an image of Ariel and its three smaller sisters, Ariel II, A4-Gamma, and Ariel II's moon.

"There'd been reports of heavy insurrectionist activity in the remote regions, especially on the moons. Alliance intelligence agrees that they have heavy weapons, enough to destroy a good number of ships."

The systems on the holotable began to rotate, showing the moons circling the planet, and the entrance of Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose. The captain paused the play.

"The fleet was able to enter, but we did not anticipate being delayed. A safe exit window - out of the range of any insurrectionist heavy weaponry - will not occur for another several months."

John frowned. Obviously it was impossible for such a large fleet - superseding 1000 ships - to leave such a large planet. The crew of the ships alone outnumbered the population of Ariel. Tactically, a huge mistake, unless you wanted to glass the planet. Which was unnecessary.

"Sir," John asked. "Permission to speak."

"Granted."

"Why was such a large fleet sent to Ariel?"

The captain didn't answer for a few seconds.

"Because," he began, "this is only the first of a two step plan."

"This is our true objective," the captain said.

The map zoomed out, shooting to the other side of the galaxy, to the left wing outer territories, and shooting into the Soell Star System.

A single gas supergiant filled the viewscreen. The map labeled it "Threshold". It rotated slowly.

A single, massive ring floated into view, in orbit around Threshold.

It must have been at least 10,000 kilometers in diameter.

It rotated slowly and hypnotically around the planet. Its blue and green faces flashed and winked in the light of the sun. Motes of light slowly flashed on its surface as blue orbs of energy transversed the surface.

Anyone with any knowledge of the Forerunner glyphs would recognize it instantly. The rings that

The symbol of the the little planet grew and clarified, a network running across the face of the planet.

"Go to the gas mine," the captain ordered.

The zoom increased and an image flickered onscreen.

It was of a large structure, hanging from the network above the planet from a cable. The cable connected to a long pillar which hung in the center of three massive processors.

John frowned and looked closer. It looked human in origin, except Threshold had never been touched by humans. And it was different, more angular, with blue lines running down the sides of the processors.

"Sir," he said, "what is this structure?"

"It's a gas mine," the captain answered. He flicked a finger lazily, and a table of schematics popped up. "Built by the Forerunners… almost a hundred thousand years ago, we estimate."

"The Forerunners…" Kelly whispered in awe.

A red dot began pulsating on the map. It flew through the center of the epic ring and began heading towards the gas mine.

Then it stopped.

"This is where we lost contact with our scout group. They said the storm made it impossible to maintain long distance communication."

"Sir," John said. "Permission to lead a scout group."

"Denied," the commander said. "SPARTAN-087 is in command of that. You're handling the extraction op. Your mission is to disable the nuclear minefield."

The two SPARTANs replied in tandem. "Yes, sir."

* * *

"How many hammer pods can you get ready in half an hour?"

The naval officer looked up, surprised to be addressed directly by a SPARTAN.

It was in the hangar bay of DDS-Class Carrier _Persistent Revelation_ , sister ship to UNSC _Prophecy_ , the two ships assigned to the SPARTAN units.

Ten minutes ago, the place had been empty of all life. Now, row after row of Seraph fighters hummed, as they began their shakedown cycles, their Sangheli pilots busied about, preparing for takeoff.

The officer tapped an icon in his datapad, accessing the schematics for the hammer gun.

The hammer gun was essential a massive acceleration cannon, built to be mounted on the bottom of cargo ships like the _Revelation._

It was a massive tube attached to the bottom, allowing for a gentler acceleration, extending it over ten or twenty meter long MAC to about a kilometer.

Instead of a depleted uranium or tungsten shell, it fired a massive thirty meter long pod made of super-dense alloys, equipped with a kinetic energy shield designed to take the shock of hitting the ground – hard.

They were designed for when ODSTs in their light SOEIV's and the Sangheli in their Orbital Insertion Pods couldn't make it, and a they were rare in the fleet.

The SPARTANs, obviously, put them to good use.

The ship rumbled, hard, as raw energy flooded the hangar bay. The officer flipped a switch and nodded.

"We can have two pods ready in half an hour."

Two hammer pods. Two SPARTAN teams of ten – it would be plenty enough to hit the insurrectionist control room.

John checked his roster. Kelly had already filled it out for her team. She'd requested Li-008 and Grace-093, and four modified dropships for a team of ODSTs, Sangheli Rangers, and even a team of Spec-Ops Sangheli and Grunts.

John confirmed the request and forwarded it to the major in charge of the docking bay of the _Prophecy._

Turning to the officer in charge of _Persistent Revelation_ 's hangar bay, he said, "Get the two pods ready for launch ASAP, and prepare two heavily armoured ships for our extraction."

* * *

Will twirled the massive Jackhammer Launcher as if it was a toy, spinning in like a stick with his two armoured fingers.

John's team – Blue Alpha – was loading up in their hammer pod.

Fred's pod, sheen black, streamlined like a bullet for hard, heavy insertion, sat on its rails, MAC powering up.

John quickly selected his weapons – fragmentation grenades, his modified M45D Shotgun and Type-51 Carbine. For a sidearm, he chose the older, heavier M6D pistol.

Will, carrying the explosives, chose to take nothing but a knife and his personal Jackhammer launcher. Typically.

Anton, the reserved and quiet, took a pair of M6Ds and an assault rifle.

James took a pair of SMGs.

Linda took her standard SRS99C-S2 AM sniper, as well as a short beam rifle.

The rest took DMRs and MA5Bs.

The heavy blast door that separated the two pods slammed shut, there was a _hiss_ of decompression, and a soft _whump_ that shook the ship. Fred's team – Blue Beta – was being fired out.

Will grinned, and mimicked firing the launcher on his shoulder. His meaning was clear. _We're getting shot._

"Decompression in five."

The hatches began to close, and the restraints began to close on the SPARTANs. John switched on the safeties on his gun.

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"Hold on to your potatoes." Will grinned. "We goin' _in!_ "

"One."

 **The reason this may seem really half done is because it is. My computer is having compatibility issues and likes going to sleep at inconvenient times, so I cut a lot of the end out. Don't expect another upload till half way through November when exams are done (and Halo 5 is out!). Thanks for sticking by.**

 **-11inchpineanddragonheartstring**


	4. Chapter 4

**From now on there will be no half done chapters. I'm really excited to get back into the game. Please drop a review, they keep me addicted to writing. And now...**

 **ONWARDS!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 **0949 Hours, August 12, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Ariel System, A4-Gamma**

The station was _awesome_.

Shrouded in the atmosphere, hanging from the unfathomably huge superstructure that surrounded the gas giant Threshold, it swayed slightly, dancing in its cloak of cloud and lightning.

Structurally, it was a huge centre shaft with three hook-like legs bending through the atmosphere, glowing with a luminescent blue, typical of Forerunner energy systems.

Kelly exhaled softly, eyes darting back and forth across the station. She hated space-ops. The uncertanties, the ridiculous sphere of attacks that could come from every side.

Li looked back at her from the Pelican's pilot seat.

"Red-One?"

Kelly shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't a tactician.

"Give me another scan," she whispered into the COMM.

Seconds passed.

The radio crackled.

"Fieldmistress." The sangheli honorific crackled through, the low tones of the sangheli voice distorted by electrical interference. "I have radio readings for a UNSC craft."

Li tapped an icon on the Pelican dashboard and raised an image.

Kelly leaned over his shoulder, peering at the hologram. It was a standard D77-TC Pelican Dropship, callsign W011 carved rudely into the side.

"Callsign Whiskey Zero-One-One," Li said. "Records show it MIA, assumed KIA as of December 11th 2550."

There was a soft crack that came through the COMM, what remained of a subtle click of the Sangheli mandibles on the other end of the COMM.

"Cursed insurrection," the Sangheli growled.

Li nodded. "I concur," he said. "It's definitely them."

Kelly frowned and peered out of the restrictive Pelican cockpit. Red clouds, flashing white with lighting obscured anything.

"Give me a long range scan," she said. "Was there any sign of activity when we dropped in?"

"None," Li said.

"They've been here for a while," Kelly said.

She held out a hand to Li, who grasped it and pulled himself up from the pilot's seat. The NAV computer blinked red as autopilot engaged.

"No point in stealth," she said. "They know we're here. We hit them hard and secure the area."

She put on her helmet.

And then everything exploded.

* * *

Fire.

Fire ripped through the Pelican, a long beam of concentrated plasma in a massive blade that carved the ship in half.

Then it exploded.

In an awesome fireball, the thruster engine reactors overloaded.

A normal explosion would have hit the fuel source and consumed the ship in a fireball. However, with scalpel-like precision, it cut through the fuel line in the middle of the ship, causing both halves of the ship to tear apart and zoom off in different directions, powered by the overloaded thrusters.

* * *

She was burning.

The brief flick of sense penetrated her brain - MJOLNIR doesn't burn - but then the flames consumed her again and her gel layer overloaded with trying to keep her cool, and everything was hot again.

And then her energy shields overloaded.

Kelly's energy shields had automatically activated when the ship exploded, but not before she was covered in burning hydrogen, which explosively fused under her energy shield, which proceeded to burn her.

And when her shields overloaded, she was released.

* * *

Gunfire.

It wasn't disciplined, just ragged firing of a plethora of all weapons.

With each bullet, it seemed as if it was shot into her skull and bounced around inside like a crazy bee, buzzing to tear her cranium apart.

There was a explosive hiss, and her helmet popped off and bounced off a few feet before rolling off the edge.

Hot air bubbled out of her suit as the molten hydrostatic gel fizzed. Hands grabbed at her.

"Kelly!"

* * *

Grace's voice penetrated the dull fog of Kelly's mind, and she looked up.

Grace was tearing off Kelly's molten armour, leaving only the matte suit underneath.

Kelly coughed. Burning pain, fully registering to her mind, tearing through her skin.

They were on the station, surrounded by burning wreckage from the Pelican, three metres from the edge of a fall.

Now that her helmet was off, she could fully appreciate the burning, choking atmosphere, her skin rippling with the latent static electricity. The ammonia in the air burnt her lungs. She coughed again.

"Ma'am?" An ODST slid a rebreather into her mouth, and clean air filled her lungs.

"Status," she whispered.

"Hold still," Grace went on. "Your armour is mostly melted. It kept you from most of the burns, but you're still hurt."

"Li?"

"He's fine," Grace answered. "Just keep quiet."

A cold fire surged through Kelly's veins Grace injected a stim-pack.

"You're good," Grace said.

Kelly slowly got off her feet. "Status," she whispered again, her throat still painful with ammonia and burns.

"They hit us good, ma'am," one of the ODSTs said. "Crazy laser clove the Pelican straight in half. Nothing like humanity - even the Covenant have seen. Precise. Like a scalpel."

"One of the Falcons is down," Grace went on. "We've lost contact with the other one. The Phantom has set down its troops and are setting up."

"Insurrectionist presence?"

"The shot that destroyed the Pelican came from one of the other legs of the station. We're trying to get snipers to secure its location but all we've got are a few stray insurrectionists. We assume that the rest of them are packed in the rest of the station."

"Roll?

Grace sighed. "Phantom, no losses. Eight pilots and gunners lost with the Falcons."

"The Pelican?" Kelly asked.

"Almost the whole team of ODSTs and Grunts confirmed KIA." Grace exhaled.

Kelly winced. _The entire Pelican..._

"Get us mobilized." Kelly ordered. "We're cleaning up."

* * *

 _THUMP._

The pod's interior, almost pitch black, light up explosively as the pod hit ground zero. The kinetic shields on each suit of MJOLNIR armour flared with starbursts of light which flooded the compartment.

"Check," John whispered over the COMM.

Nine acknowledgment lights winked on on his HUD.

 _Three... Two... One..._

Bang.

The doors of the hammer pod burst open.

* * *

SPARTAN efficiency at its finest.

Every movement, every slight squeeze of the trigger, feet smoothly gliding over the hard concrete floors, every footfall noiselessly transporting half a tonne of armoured soldier forward.

The team of ten sprinted onward.

They were already on borrowed time.

The disarming of the nuclear minefield would take about an hour.

The window for the fleet to exit was about two hours.

It would take about an hour to get the fleet through the window.

They had ten minutes to get the virus into the system. Which means they had to find the central system, upload a virus that would find base schematics. Then find minefield access and disable it.

Ten minutes.

They had to be quick.

Blue-beta - the other SPARTAN team was on annihilation. Destroy everyone and everything and cause the biggest distraction possible, in attempt to blow a hole in their battlenet and allow an entrance point for Blue-alpha.

They had their hole.

It was a large warehouse, catwalks running across it, and the all blast doors sealed, except for a funnel point, heavily guarded by machine guns and an energy sheild.

Three fingers. That's all it took.

One. Sniper up.

Two. Make a distraction.

Three. Suppression fire.

Nine acknowledgement lights winked on on John's HUD.

The sniper gently touched her jetpack on, and before any gun could trace her, active camouflage activated.

From behind where she had taken off, two other SPARTANs loosed two bullets each, silencers deliberately off to break the gunners's concentrations.

Then they ducked.

The two machine guns swung off where the sniper had been, waiting for the SPARTANs to re-emerge.

A countdown appeared on John's HUD.

 _3..._

 _2..._

Will jumped.

The machine guns followed him, opening up in a brutal storm of 12mm rounds, tearing through the air.

Eight other SPARTANs jumped out after him, bullets flying.

A rocket spiralled out of Will's SPNKr launcher, exploding in a plume of cloud and fire.

The energy shield flickered.

Linda's sniper rifle spat twice, and in the brief instant that the energy shield was down, two bullets had immobilized both machine guns.

All had gone perfectly.

They had 100% efficiency.

John checked his mission clock.

4:39 remaining.

They had to be 111 percent.

They had to be faster.

So they fought.

Faster.

* * *

 **As usual, I'm feeling a little burned out. Writer's block has be by the hair, not because I'm uncreative, but because I have so much projects going on. I've greenlit a independent project of my own, started drawing up the plot for a new Star Wars fic... (has anyone seen Force Awakens and NOT immediately started drawing up plans?)**

 **Whew!**

 **Well, sorry for being dumb.**

 **Umm... I had real high hopes for this fic, but in all honesty it's started to peter out in terms of personal interest. Uhhhhhh...**

 **I'll try to keep motivated. YOU can keep me motivated by reviewing.**

 **Seriously.**

 **It helps.**

 **Like, it will probably make the difference for if I scrap this project.**

 **So please, put your two cents in. I need all the help I can get.**

 **So**

 **R &R.**

 **Do it.**

 **I don't care if you're too lazy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviews! Whooooow!**

 **the17thmuse: Why, thank you. That means a lot to me.**

 **ChainzOfThePast: Umm... I honestly don't know how I can clear this up for you better. Try reading the timeline again...? I understand if you don't get it, that's probably one of my biggest faults in my writing... making things come across well. And yes, it is a bad review, but it's constructive, so that helps. But economic status... I have no idea either. Bummer. I'll try to embellish that a bit more when I either: A: Rewrite the story, or B: Get to a part where I can dump more exposition instead of fight scenes.**

 **Speaking of fight scenes, I'm really struggling with them. Shoutout to Katsuhiro for the help. (Unless I already have. Maybe.)**

 **So...**

 **ONWARDS!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **1011 Hours, August 12, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Threshold System, Gas Mine**

Screams.

Brutal. Primal. Inhumane.

A horrifying gurgle, undulating and rising with the wind to a near whistle, and fading to a angry roar.

The screams echoed off the walls and faded to nothingness with the wind.

Then silence, except for the whistling windstorm.

"What the..." whispered one of the ODSTs.

The Sangheli shifted uncomfortably.

One of the Grunts whimpered.

Li-008 and Grace-093 stood stoically in their MJOLNIR armour.

Kelly shook herself from her stupor.

"Where did it come from?" she breathed, her tongue working uncomfortably around the rebreather in her mouth. Li flicked a finger. Pointing. The hangar.

As if in response, a roar elicited itself from the hangar. Accompanied by the strange screams and... _human voices_?

"Fan out," Kelly ordered. "Li, take point. Grunts at the back. Watch out for traps."

The soldiers began moving. Grace opened a private COMM in Kelly's earpiece.

"Kelly, if I may..."

"I'm fine," Kelly whispered. "If any bullets come my way, you can take them for me."

Grace laughed softly. "OK."

Then suddenly everything stopped.

The hangar was _trashed_.

To a quick, experienced eye, it would look like the insurrectionists had set up a barrier of wreckage. A simple, makeshift, effective cover point.

Except the barrier was moving.

Backwards.

Kelly took it all in in less than a second. The dull, vaguely humanoid, dusky figures pushing the wreckage of what used to be the insurrection's Pelican Whiskey-011. The horrified men behind it, shooting wildly. The grotesque slime covering everything.

It all seemed to happen at once. An ODST shouting " _Holy shit!_ " and the squeeze of a trigger, maybe even out of pure reflex or horror. The whine of the bullet as it hissed into the hangar.

And the hundreds of dark forms dropping down behind them.

* * *

Screams.

Brutal. Primal. Inhumane.

The seething mass of dark figures, humanoid features horrifically out of proportion.

So they ran.

Blindly, they ran. One of the Sangheli intel officers - sucked into the horde of monsters chasing them. They heard is pained screams as he was literally torn apart.

The grunts had no chance. Their stumpy bodies and short legs were no match for the monsters. They were sucked into the gray tsunami too.

Kelly was running - vaguely she recognized Li sprinting ahead of her, a Sangheli swordsman, Bel 'Ksuvai, Grace somewhere in her peripherals, two ODSTs...

The Phantom screamed ahead, fire spitting out of its cannons, splashing over the gray forms.

They still came.

"Pilot!" Kelly shouted into her COMM. "Get to the edge of the station! Pick us up!"

The Phantom circled, shooting plasma, and shot off to the edge of the cliff.

A distant horrified scream alerted Kelly to the loss of another ODST, but there was no time. Just _keep running_. The Phantom sat ahead, only a short jump to the gravity lift. Kelly put on a final burst of speed, catching up to Li, watched him jump, leaping forward towards the gravity lift...

...and feeling a cold hand grab her leg. She twisted around, sidearm in hand. The monster's face - sickeningly _human_ \- mouth open in a scream and hanging off at an angle that was _wrong_ , horribly misproprtioned limbs that flailed wildly towards her.

She shot it.

The monster screamed, and released her.

And then she was falling.

* * *

 **0045 Hours, August 11, 2552 (Military Calendar) / Ariel System, [Location Redacted]**

Another blip, a computer terminal appeared on John's HUD. He indicated a finger towards it. Anton slapped his palm across the data port, then indicated negative.

They were running out of time.

1:12 remaining.

"We need to change tactics," he said into the COMM. "We won't have time to disarm the minefield. We'll just have to set it off while no ships are in range. The activation code should be easier to find than the disarm."

He updated the mission clock with the extra bonus.

2:14 remaining.

Nine acknowledgement lights winked green.

"Let's sprint this."

It had been thirty seconds since they had obtained base schematics. Twenty-five seconds since they had realized that the terminal with the disarm code was isolated from the computer mainframe. It was a random chase at this point - and luck was too much to rely on.

John quickly examined the base schematics. There was a large concentration of terminals two corridors to the left, the only one they hadn't search.

It had to be it.

"Let's go."

They started running.

Two corners - two hallways. One more room to go - another warehouse. Another bullet funnel

John quickly assessed his options. If Kelly were here, he'd send her on rabbit. Draw any fire, attempt to break through while the other SPARTANs held the opposition off.

Too bad. They'd have to go with a hologram. He deployed it, the model of a SPARTAN under active camouflage.

It made it five metres before being brutalized by two fireballs.

The two green fireballs - fuel rods, by the look, volatile, powerful and unstable.

They slammed into the hologram, ripping the unit apart and literally melting away half of the doorway.

John noted the angle. They were from the air - VTOLs, he guessed. Two.

"James," he whispered. "You good for rabbit?"

"Gimme a distraction," he whispered back.

John deployed his second hologram unit.

James leapt out.

The two beams of energy ripped through the second hologram, washing radiation all over the walls, and between the cross-section of the two beams, James flew, energy shields washing a brilliant gold.

Then the rest of the SPARTANs rushed out, guns up.

They were two AV-22 Sparrowhawks, VTOLs, heavily armed with fuel rod cannons mounted on each wing.

Except only _one_ of the VTOLs had been firing.

The second James leapt out, the second one opened up, blasting green energy that splashed all over the ground.

John threw him a glance. He was hurtling backwards through the air, jetpack on fire, and hit the wall before sliding down behind a crate.

"Will!" he shouted. Will hefted his Jackhammer and the quick _thunk thunk_ of two rockets ejecting.

The first one spiraled into an energy shield of one of the Sparrowhawks and exploded, while the second got through and failed to detonate. Electronic countermeasures.

Time: 1:32.

Will abandoned his launcher and drew his knife and a pack of C12, hurling the pack in the air and hitting the detonation switch before it entered the electric null-zone around the first VTOL.

 _Boom_.

The thunderous roar of the C12 ripped through the warehouse, tearing through both Sparrowhawk's shiethrowing crates left and right, shaking John's teeth in his head as the sonic wave rippled through his armour and body, only partially negated by MJOLNIR's energy shields.

Will jumped, bouncing off one of the crates and firing his jetpack. Tumbling, he stabbed his knife into the Sparrowhawk, the synthetic carbon blade sinking cleaning into the metal. He hung on long enough to hook the second satchel of C12 onto the handle and backflipped off.

The energy shields on the Sparrowhawks had only begun to reform when the second pack of C12 detonated.

The shields collapsed instantly. The first Sparrowhawk was almost completely vaporised, and the second, caught in the blast, was hurled backwards and smashed into the wall of the warehouse, where the pilot began shooting.

It was insane, suicidal. What seemed like rivers of plasma and rockets roared out from under the VTOL's wings, hammering the location where the figures of nine SPARTANs had taken cover behind the crates.

When the smoke cleared, the crates remained a smouldering heap of molten metal. Nothing living could have remained underneath.

Except the figures of the SPARTANs remained standing. Through all the molten slag.

 _Holograms..._

The pilot breathed in and out shakily. He looked up -

\- in time to see an armoured boot smash through the reinforced glass, a gun barrel poke in, and a hear a bullet fired.

* * *

Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee exhaled softly. His mandible twitched as he touched the icon again on his dashboard.

" _Supreme Commander,_ " the automated message crackled through, interference breaking up the message through several feet of concrete and titanium that was the insurrectionist base. " _We are attempting to detonate the minefield. Clear all -_ "

Thel squelched it. He had already sent the directive out to vacate the minefield at all costs. He was worried about the time. The window was closing. He examined his clock.

0:10 remaining...

0:09 remaining...

0:08 remaining...

* * *

John stared at the computer screen, watching the virus infiltrate the system.

0:07 remaining...

0:06 remaining...

"Got it," Anton whispered, extracting his hand from the dataport, and quickly moving over to another terminal. "We're going to have a _big_ boom in -"

0:04 remaining...

0:03 remaining...

* * *

What passed for a smile for the Sangheli passed across the Supreme Commander's mandibles as he felt the shockwave of the nuclear minefield detonate. A few seconds later, his dashboard blinked as the radiation washed over the sensors of his ship.

Opening a channel to the entire fleet, he said, "Shipmasters! The window is open. Accelerate to slipspace vectors and set a course for the sacred ring!"

Cheering burst out from the COMM. He twitched a finger at the bridge crew of his ship, the _DDS_ _-_ class cruiser _Ascendant Justice._ The idle engines growled, the humming spreading throughout the ship.

"Front cameras," he ordered.

The crew, well accustomed to his practices, quickly gave him a view of the purple shifting whirlpool that was space, opening up to the alternate dimension. He sat back, content that all had gone smoothly.

Soon, the hundreds of winks opening up around Ariel whirlpooled and disappeared as the Combined Fleet of Righteous Purpose exited the system.

* * *

 **See what happens when you guys review? I update faster!**

 **(No seriously. That's how it works.)**

 **As usual, thanks for reading! And that doesn't mean you don't get to review! Flames are used to bake cakes. And I don't know about you, but I like cake. So review away!**

 **Of course, given the time I updated in, I'm guessing fairly shoddy on the editing, but I thought I did alright.**

 **See you next time!  
**

 **-11inchpineanddragonheartstring**

 **(Does anyone else think I should reduce the length of my name?)**


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